


Now All Your Love Is Wasted

by appleapple



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Sex Pollen, Spoilers through chapter 100+ ish, canonverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-11 03:33:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15963824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appleapple/pseuds/appleapple
Summary: The sex pollen oneIn which sex does not fix poor communication





	Now All Your Love Is Wasted

**Author's Note:**

> When is a sex pollen fic not a sex pollen fic? When I write it! Heavy focus on recent events in chapters 100+ of the manga, set in nearish future.
> 
> First in a series.

He had heard rumors of Yellow Tree Powder when he had been in Marley; he hadn’t believed them. It had seemed too preposterous, and that was saying something when you considered he was in possession of supernatural powers himself.

It had sounded like a ridiculous fairy tale--just another way for Marley to threaten and humiliate the Eldians. So he hadn’t believed, until he’d seen one of the victims ‘recovering’ at the hospital...

He climbed the stairs up to the rooms the others shared, pushing hair back out of his eyes. Usually someone came for him, but today he had waited, watching the sun climb across the floor through gaps in the bars. Eventually he had pushed the cell door open. No one had bothered to lock it in months.

Armin was waiting for him, standing outside of the door to the apartments looking as unhappy as Eren had ever seen him. He shot Eren one dark meaning look before opening the door--he closed it a second later, but that had been enough.

“Ugh--” Eren mumbled, rubbing his forehead. “I could have done without that--” He had seen more of Jean’s bare ass than anything else--and that alone was the stuff of nightmares. But as that bare ass had been pounding the _shit_ out of Mikasa--with Connie and various other soldiers in the background, carrying on in similar fashion--he felt reasonably traumatized.

Armin was searching his face anxiously. “What’s wrong with them!” he demanded. “You know? You’ve seen this before?”

Eren nodded glumly. “It’s kind of a poison. You know how they got exposed--?”

Armin blew out a breath. “Last night,” he said. “Somebody dropped a vial of something, in Hanji’s lab. It wasn’t labelled.” In a low voice Armin mumbled, “I don’t even know where Hanji is. I woke up in the middle of the night. I heard--” he waved a distraught hand at the closed door.

“Shifters are immune,” Eren said quickly. They stood there awkwardly, trying to not to make eye contact.

Then Armin burst out, “How do we stop them?”

“We don’t. It’ll run its course in a couple of days, at the most. It depends on the size of the dose…”

Armin looked aghast. “So we just let them…?”

“It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea if we left out some food…”

Armin looked at him in horror. “Can we just leave them like this? Does it keep spreading…?”

“No, it...how long ago did the vial break?”

“Twelve hours, I guess.”

“The initial contagion period is shorter than that. And if you’ve, uh, caught it from a _person,_ you can’t spread it to others.”

“Then…” Armin bit his lip. “I guess we should see who Hanji might have infected…” He spoke with a total lack of enthusiasm, as if he hoped Eren might talk him out of it.

But Eren nodded, “Was anybody else there? Just Hanji and them?” He jerked his head back at the door.

“Yeah--” Armin said, and then he frowned. “Wait. The Captain…”

Eren stiffened. “The Captain?” he said carefully.

“I--Well, he was in the office, next door. He came by right around the time it happened I guess--when we were cleaning up the mess. We didn’t know then--they didn’t show symptoms at first! He was in the doorway…” Armin thought about it. “He didn’t come in. He had been going to say goodbye to Hanji, but--”

Eren frowned. “Goodbye?”

“The airship factory, in Stohess,” Armin said absently, as if this were something Eren should have known.

He felt vaguely nettled, but he pushed away his annoyance. Armin was continuing, “Do you think he was exposed? Do you think he would have been close enough?”

“I...don’t know…” Eren said. “Did he leave when he was supposed to?”

Armin made another painful face. “‘I’m not sure. You don’t think…” He trailed off, but he didn’t need to finish speaking.

“Yes,” Eren said heavily. “Let’s go check on Hanji.”

 

 

 

They knocked, though at first no one answered.

Before they could try the door it opened a crack, and someone--a male someone, someone Eren vaguely knew as one of Hanji’s assistants--stuck a head out.

“Yes?” he said. He was polite but impatient, like someone answering the door to a traveling salesman.

“Uh…” Armin said.

Further in they heard Hanji’s voice, unmistakably. “Try it again! But this time, at a 45 degree angle!”

Eren cleared his throat. “Is the Captain here?”

“What captain?”

“Ah-ha!” Hanji’s voice again. “I knew it!” Another voice--possibly female--moaned loudly.

“Captain Levi,” Eren gritted out, aware that he was bright red; also that he was straining to hear every noise from the rooms within (and hating himself for it).

“Oh, him,” the man said. “No.” Then he shut the door in their faces.

Armin exhaled and looked askance at Eren, who was staring at the floor.

“We should...uh, go to the kitchens? And bring something back for them?”

“Can you get me a copy of his itinerary?” Eren asked without looking up.

Armin blinked. “What?”

“Someone needs to make sure he’s all right.”

Armin looked unconvinced. Eren snapped at him, “Fuck, _I_ need to know that he’s all right, okay!”

Armin just stared back, that cold and wary look Eren was so familiar with. “You’re not supposed to leave.”

“Who’s going to stop me?” Eren said coldly. “If _he’s_ not here. You? Going to turn Colossus on me?”

Armin’s gaze was steely, but Eren didn’t care. They had stuck him in the dungeon like always, but no one had bothered to tell him Levi was _going_ , off on some errand. The dungeons couldn’t hold him anymore. It was just a piece of theater. That was why they didn’t bother with the locks. But no one saw him as a threat now.

Or at least not the threat he had been when Zeke was still alive.

Armin still hadn’t said anything, and Eren knew he hadn’t helped his case with his outburst. But it was hard to care. His heart was beating hard enough for him to feel every jump, blood pulsing against his throat. He was sweating--he wiped his face against his shoulder, trying to think.

“If he dies--” Eren gritted out.

Armin frowned. “What do you mean, if he--”

“I told you it’s a poison! When the Marleyans really want to torture someone they’ll give them a dose of the Yellow Powder and lock them in a room. Sometimes it takes days; they told me at the end, the blood starts to boil in your veins--”

“Wait--” Armin held his hands up. “This isn’t what you said upstairs!”

“Because they have the cure!” Eren said impatiently. “Everybody here is getting laid!”

“You don’t think--”

“Do you know anyone else with as much self control as he has?” Eren said, his voice almost cracking on the words. “If he’s fine, wonderful! He can drag me back here himself and lock me back in the fucking dungeon, all right? But let’s say he _was_ on the edge of the room and he got a low dose. Say he doesn’t have symptoms right now. What’s he going to do when he does? What if he’s miles away from any place--”

“Did you sleep with him?” Armin asked suddenly, interrupting his tirade. “Before? Before you left.”

 _I fucking know which ‘before’ you meant._ Eren thought furiously. Armin was looking right at him, like he already knew the answer.

“Yes,” Eren said quietly, and Armin nodded. Eren wanted to punch him.

He felt like Armin had slapped him. _Did everybody know?_ he wondered, feeling horribly exposed. He had thought it was a secret, well-hidden. God knew Levi couldn’t stand him anymore, there was nothing to suspect between them _now._ It didn’t feel fair that Armin could know this.

It had only been one time.

“I’ll get you the itinerary,” Armin said heavily.

 

 

 

 

It turned out Levi _had_ left the night before, and on time. The guards had seen him go. Knowing Levi he hadn’t stopped to sleep, or if he had it would only have been for an hour or two. 

It meant he had more than a twelve hour head start, and Eren had to ride hard to catch up. But what if the poison had taken hold somewhere along the way? How would he ever know?

None of this was logical: the most likely thing was that he’d been far enough away from the poison to be spared. If not he would to what any normal person would: find some likely paramour, hole up, and bang non-stop for a couple of days.

There was a small sticking point though. Levi wasn’t normal. He was almost as far from normal as you could get.

Eren hadn’t stopped sweating since he’d parted from Armin. His shirt was soaked through under his jacket, and if he could have spared the time he would have ripped the damn thing off and thrown it in one of the saddlebags.

His brain was helpfully feeding him little details he’d put together over the years (Levi had once been the object of careful study, after all); memories and fragments of conversation, speculation and rumors...

_Nah, he doesn’t go with anybody...never had a girlfriend, not that I’ve ever heard...Doesn’t even go to brothels!...doesn’t like men, either, I once saw him punch a guy that grabbed his ass, hahaha…_

Of course, the best knowledge came firsthand. He had that too. _That_ night--only a few days before his defection, when he’d escaped over the ocean to Marley--he’d come to Levi. The memory had haunted him, ambushing him so often that he’d never felt safe. Since he’d come back to the island he’d done his best to forget. 

Some things you couldn’t run from though. Levi had made it abundantly clear that unless he wanted another kick to the face he’d better stay the fuck away.

His brain helpfully fed him little details. He had come that night not knowing what would happen-- _I saw him punch a guy once...Man, I’ve seen women throw themselves at him and he just throws them right back, hahahaha!_ Not knowing if Levi would kick him out, or punch him, or _hell!_ Maybe even let him down gently. He had been on the receiving end of Levi's tenderness, after all.

_Levi quetly holding him one night as he’d cried, weeks after the Battle of Shinganshina, when Mikasa hadn’t been around. Levi telling Hanji to back off on the experiments and forcing Eren to have a week off to rest. Levi covering for him, so many times…_

He had wrestled with his desires for a long time. How long had he wanted Levi? Years, and Levi’d never given any sign that he felt the same way. There was no reason to believe anything would come of it, that anything _could_ come of it. But in the end he couldn’t leave without...knowing.

He knew he was putting all his plans into jeopardy. He was allowing this to cloud his judgment. He was going to do it anyway.

_“Eren…” Levi had said slowly. He was wearing a white shirt, unbuttoned at the throat, rolled up to the sleeves._

_”Can I…” Eren had said, and Levi had given him a long assessing look before stepping back, letting Eren in. He had followed, feeling almost predatory, sick with hunger and longing._

_”You don’t have to do this,” Levi had murmured, as if he knew. Eren’s stomach dropped, but he did; he _had_ to, and he leaned forward, waiting for the punch or the slap or for Levi to just gently push him back..._

_Instead Levi had tilted his head up, waiting to be kissed. As if this was expected, all just part of a plan Eren couldn’t see._

_In his fantasies Levi had been wild and violent. But he realized, quickly, how stupid that had been; Levi was the most tightly controlled person he knew. His violence was never purposeless, and here--_

_Levi tipping his head up to kiss him back, Levi putting his hands on his backside to pull him close, leaving his hands there after--_

_It had been sweet. As if to Levi, he was a partner, an equal, someone worthy of respect--_

“Oh, fuck this,” Eren snarled to no one, and he tore at the buttons of his jacket until it opened, then shrugged it off. It flew off behind him somewhere and was lost.

 

 

 

 

It took longer than twelve hours to find Levi. By the time he reached Stohess a full day had passed.

He hadn’t slept, and he’d only eaten what he’d brought in the saddlebags, a few hasty handfuls of dried meat and fruit and whatever else had been nearby when he’d spent ten minutes packing.

Levi had breezed past the itinerary--apparently making good time!--and continued directly on to Stohess.

Eren hadn’t realized at first, and had spent a lot of unnecessary time scouting the local whorehouses before hed kept going.

When he did finally catch up it was at the inn--The Silver Fish, the itinerary had provided helpfully.

He’d asked the innkeeper, exhaustedly, if Levi was here and he’d received a slightly surprised affirmative--probably at the state he was in--and pointed in the direction of a small private room off of the bar (where a few brave souls were already drinking, though it was not yet ten in the morning).

Eren went in without knocking, and Levi--sitting at a desk, writing a letter for God’s sake!--looked up to glare. His expression quickly turned to surprise.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded, and looking behind Eren, seeing no one, “Are you _alone?”_ He looked sharply at Eren. “What’s happened?”

Eren--disheveled, travel-stained, exhausted--shook his head. He collapsed into a chair across from him. “Oh nothing,” he said. “Everything’s _fine_. I just thought I’d go for an early morning ride. Got a little lost, that’s all.”

Levi was watching him, expression hooded and inscrutable. So, back to normal. “You’re not drunk,” he said, after a pause. “So what the fuck’s going on?”

“How do you feel?” Eren asked him. 

“What?”

“You haven’t been feeling strange?”

Levi was starting to look a little bewildered--possibly even concerned. “Eren,” he said, his voice deadly low, the _Captain’s_ voice, “What is going on?”

“Do you remember the night you left,” he said. “Someone was unpacking some equipment in Hanji’s lab, and everyone was together, they spilled something, dropped something--” he waved his hands-- _need I go on?_

Levi nodded impatiently.

“Well--” Eren looked away. “It was a toxin,” he said. Yes, a toxin. Let’s go with that. No need to get into the particulars, not with your former-one-time-ex-lover, right Eren? He cleared his throat. “Everyone’s fine,” he added quickly. “We...had the antidote. I wanted to make sure you were all right.” That last thing, maybe he shouldn’t have said that; maybe he should have made it a more general case, should have prevaricated, made excuses. It had come out more nakedly honest than he’d intended. But whatever; Levi would find out the truth when they got back, if the rest of them didn’t draw a shameful curtain over the whole affair.

“I feel fine,” Levi said after a moment. “What kind of a toxin?”

 _Oh hell Levi._ Always asking the hard questions.

“One that kills you if left untreated,” Eren said quietly. He stared at the floor. Levi seemed all right; that was good. The best thing that he could have hoped for. If he got in trouble for running off, oh well. It was a small price to pay for what might have happened.

Levi stood up and came over, close enough to touch, and then he _did_ touch him a hand coming to rest on his shoulder. It was the first time in...a very long time.

 _I must look worse than I thought._ He closed his eyes, swallowing hard. He was missing his jacket, grimy and sweat-stained. His hair was a disaster--the tie had fallen out somewhere and he’d been too busy to replace it.

It was the kind of innocent touch they had once shared frequently… 

Before. _Armin’s before_ \-- _my_ before. Before anything...had happened. But it had been so long since Levi had done this.

Levi’s hand moved and brushed the side of his neck--it might have been accidental. Eren felt a dreamy warmth spreading through him that might have merely been pleasure…

Or could have been his heightened healing abilities, processing the toxin and breaking it down before it could affect him.

 _Oh fuck,_ Eren thought wildly, several realizations hitting him at once. _That’s how it spreads, isn’t it? The first person you touch is the one you affect…_ Had Levi touched anyone else in the last day? 

But it’s Levi; of course he hasn’t.

“You were exposed,” Eren said dizzily. Then he leaned up and kissed him, full on the mouth.

“Eren what the _fuck!”_ Levi yelped. He shoved Eren back and leaped away, the back of his legs bumping against the desk. He stared at Eren. Eren felt some bitter cocktail of rage and regret rising in him.

“What is _wrong_ with you?”

“I felt it when you touched me,” Eren said. “You have it too.”

Levi just stared at him like he was crazy--he looked crazy, he knew that, and feeling suddenly anguished and not knowing what to do he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. A knot of wood in the floor looked like a face. It glared up at him. He covered it with his foot.

In a dull voice--as if reciting words from a textbook, he said, “When I went to Marley I heard about all the different tortures they used on Eldians who ‘misbehaved.’ There’s this drug that comes from a plant. They say it’s an aphrodisiac in small enough doses, so it’s been harvested almost to extinction...it’s not common anyway. I didn’t believe the stories. Then when I was in the hospital…”

He stopped to press his face to his shoulder again. This shirt was filthy. He couldn’t remember if he’d brought another.

“There was a man there that had been dosed with it. And some people with him--the first ones he came into contact with, I guess, after the symptoms started. They were having an orgy. There were a bunch of Marley soldiers hanging around, laughing. The room had windows. They were charging admission. Stuff like that--”

“I don’t want to hear another fucking Marley sob story, Eren.”

He stiffened. “Well,” he managed to say, “someone smuggled some in to Hanji’s lab--or it ended up there anyway. Right now everyone who was exposed to it back there, is--”

“Having an orgy?” Levi repeated in disbelief.

Eren nodded. “Yeah,” he said heavily. “That’s about it.”

Levi made a scoffing noise, and then he went back to the desk and picked up his pen. Eren stared at him. He wasn’t exactly an expert, but he knew enough about the Yellow Tree Powder to know that what Levi was doing was impossible; if he had gotten any of the powder on him--and he _had_ , Eren had felt it--he should be in the throes of the affliction by now.

 _Unless he didn’t; unless you just imagined it._ No, he hadn’t. He was sure.

But Levi kept on writing like nothing was wrong. Eren was starting to feel his rising anger and frustration replaced by something else--he hadn’t thought he’d need _evidence_ to convince Levi!

“Levi--” he said, and Levi stopped writing to glare at him.

_When’s the last time you called him by his first name?_

He knew the answer to that question. 

Cursing himself he tried again. “Captain--” 

“The room next to mine,” Levi said, “is empty. Tell the innkeeper you’re taking it.” He stood up. “I have more to do here. Don’t go anywhere,” he said menacingly, and then he left.

“Agh!” Eren said when he was gone. “Fuck!”

 

 

He had brought a change of clothes, as it turned out. They fell out in a rumpled heap when he opened his bag. He took a bath and cleaned up properly before putting them on, tying his wet hair up, and then washing his dirty clothes in what was left of the bathwater before hanging them to dry.

He felt like he was watching his life run along two tracks, and he couldn’t help remembering--

_before_

The last time he’d felt that way. Before he’d made up his mind to leave, back when his decision hadn’t been a foregone conclusion.

But he’d made that decision long ago. There was no reason to dwell on it now.

He fell asleep a little past noon, and didn’t wake up until hours later. Levi was sitting on the edge of his bed, watching the sunset from the window.

Eren looked at him for a moment, groggy, and then he sat up.

“You--felt something?” Eren asked.

“What is it you expect me to do?” Levi said. He wasn’t looking at him. He sounded tired and worn out.

“You have to--” Eren sighed. _Use your big boy words Eren._ “You have to have sex. With me.”

Levi looked at him, disbelieving. “With _you?”_

Eren stared at the quilt in his lap and tried not to feel anything. “I didn’t know,” he said, low and remorseful. “It spreads by touching. The first person you touch after the symptoms start. It’s too late for it to work with anybody else. I’m sorry.”

Levi shook his head. He sat there for a long moment, then he got up and left the room. Eren groaned, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes.

This was just great, better than a comic play. Levi was infected with a drug that could kill him, except he probably _would_ rather die than let Eren touch him again. He pictured carrying Levi’s corpse back to the others--what do you say in a situation like that?

_“Hanji, I’m so sorry! I offered, but he said he’d rather let his dick explode than let me touch it again!”_

He threw the blankets off. He had to pee, and he was starving. There was a chamberpot under the bed; he pissed into it before running down the stairs two at a time to find the innkeeper.

Twenty minutes later he was back upstairs knocking at Levi’s door. There was no answer, so he pushed it open. Levi was lying up in the bed, on top of the quilt. He looked worse already; pale and sweating like he had a fever. There was a small table in the room and Eren moved it over next to the bed, setting the tray down.

Levi moved, gazing first at the tray and then at him. Eren swallowed and did his best to keep his voice neutral, even cheerful.

“Do you want some?” He motioned to the teapot. Levi didn’t respond, but Eren began pouring it anyway.

“You should eat something, if you haven’t yet.”

“Why?” Levi said, and Eren tried not to grimace.

“You’ll need it,” he said quietly, and then he looked up and met Levi’s eyes. “I can’t let you die. You _know_ that.”

“So what are you planning to do if I say no? Rape me?”

“Could you not?” Eren yelled back hotly, entirely losing his composure. “Do you think I want to do this? Do you think I want to be here--”

“Sure, why not?” Levi said sardonically, and Eren stared at him. 

“No!” he said. “How could you--no!” He was furious. “You weren’t unwilling, last time, not the way I remember.”

That had apparently been the wrong thing to say; worse than he’d expected. He’d wanted to get a reaction from Levi, but…

“Get out,” Levi said.

Eren glared at him for another second. Then he grabbed one of the sandwiches from the tray and stomped out.

In his own room he shoved the sandwich in his mouth and paced, furious but also puzzled and growing frightened.

Because Levi should have said yes by now, and if he didn’t what _was_ Eren going to do?

 _Why did it have to be Levi? Why did I have to inherit this?_ he thought in despair. He collapsed on the edge of the bed. Levi, with his weird sexual hang ups...

_Yeah, wanting to be in love with the person he goes to bed with. What a freak, huh?_

He took a lot of rapid deep breaths and then slowed them down, drawing them out progressively longer. It was a kind of kata Hanji had taught him years ago, to help keep control during his transformations, but it had all kinds of applications (when he could remember to use it.) 

He practiced the breathing until at last he felt a bit calmer.

_You can’t let him die. So go and do whatever it takes to not let him die._

and

_Something else happened. You never talked about this, and you left him right after. You don’t know what it was like for him._

He felt that cold anger rise up again. _I didn’t force him. Not even close. I would never--_

_Maybe it’s not that. Maybe he thinks you tricked him._

He didn’t know enough about this to be messing around--there might well be a point where all the sex in the world wouldn’t be enough to cure Levi. It was already clear he was suffering.

_So what if he’s angry at you? Let him be angry. Make whatever concessions you need. Even if he doesn’t want to he’ll see it’s the only option._

Eren sighed. “Ready?” he asked himself softly. He wasn’t. 

This time he didn’t bother knocking, just gently eased open the door. 

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately, before Levi could shout him out of the room. He sat down in the chair by the bed again--and frowned when he saw the cup of tea he’d poured Levi was untouched.

He ran a hand back through his hair. “I know this isn’t...what you want,” he said, hurrying the words. “It isn’t what I want either. I’m sorry. But you can’t die from this; they need you.”

He looked to see how Levi was taking it, if it was landing at all. He was surprised to see Levi no longer looked angry--but he still looked very bad. His skin was waxy under the sheen of sweat. And his eyes…

Maybe it was just that he was too ill to hide it, but there was something else there, something Eren had never seen. His stomach knotted up. _What, Levi. What now…_

But still he didn’t speak.

“What is it?” Eren asked softly.

“Before you left,” Levi said. 

_There it is again. ‘Before…’_

“Hanji thought you were acting strange. She wasn’t the only one. They came to me. ‘You know him,’ they said…” he trailed off. “But you know all that.” His voice wasn’t bitter, but there was a hurt there that made Eren feel skittish and uneasy.

He felt as if he’d stumbled in the dark in a room he knew well, tipped over some unfamiliar piece of furniture. Groping in the dark for its shape and sharp edges.

“No,” he said. “I don’t know. What do you mean?”

Levi did look angry then. It didn’t replace the hurt, but mingled with it. “Why play games now? You can’t think you have anything left to gain by it.” His voice was raw, and Eren felt swallowed up--they were on the edge of something dreadful. He wanted suddenly to take it back; to stay far away from this dark danger.

Before he could think of what to say Levi started talking again.

“They wanted you watched. Followed. Hanji asked me what we should do. You came to me the next day. So I told her no. I said you were fine. It bought you the time you needed,” Levi smiled thinly, “to get away.”

 _No,_ Eren thought, ill. _No, no, no, I don’t want this. Don’t put this on me._

It was too late; just like that he was sling-shotted into the past, full of remembering. Back then he’d had no idea he was acting strange. He hadn’t thought they’d suspected _anything._ He had been preoccupied with his conflicting worries and desires, but he’d believed he was the only one who knew.

 _God. Afterwards…_ he stared at Levi, feeling nauseous. _Did they blame him when I left? He must have blamed himself._ He thought of Levi, having to face Hanji after that and he felt even worse.

What must it have been like, to wake up on the day that Eren had gone, to know that Eren had betrayed him?

 _I wasn’t. I didn’t--_ he tried to protest but he remembered it all. He hadn’t ever meant to hurt Levi, but he hadn’t stopped to think about what it all looked like. Though his planned departure was days off he hadn’t been able to go to Levi again the next night. It hurt too much. So much more than he had anticipated. If he did it again he wasn’t sure he’d be able to leave.

Levi would never push or prod. He had smiled at Eren the next day, across the mess hall at lunch, gentle, sweet: a smile that said privately to him, _It’s all right. Take all the time you need._

Because…

At the beach they’d found all sorts of crabs and snails and mollusks. Strange creatures that they had examined closely; he could remember that first time, all of them crowding around some newly discovered animal, one of them picking up the crab and turning it over. Terrified the creature had pulled its legs into its shell, quivering, until someone had had the idea to cup it gently just at the top of the water.

Slowly it had stuck its legs out, then begun to crawl across the hand that held it.

“Tickles! It tickles!” Sasha had cackled. 

_Yes. Sasha. She was the one that picked it up. I knew that. I didn’t want to remember…_

They had learned the names of all the strange creatures later, when the Marleyans had started to come over. _Whelks_ and _clams_ and _fiddlers_ and _hermit crabs,_ and so many more. But one thing the creatures had in common, in spite of all their various, fantastic, sometimes monstrous forms was the hard shells.

They wore their bones on the outside. Inside they were soft and delicate and unprotected. Later too the Marleyans had cooked them up, showed them which ones were good for eating as well as what they were called. Sasha had loved that.

Eren had liked looking at them more than eating them. He felt a little sorry for them when they were cooked up and ready for dinner.

He liked seeing them better in the water, scurrying around on their important errands. Some of the crabs were a little terrifying--big monstrous things more than six inches across, and they’d pinch your toes if you got too close. More than once a little pinch had sent one of them screaming out of the water, the others laughing from a safe distance.

But take them out of their shells and they were dead--just meat waiting to be picked clean by the gulls. It fascinated him--the hard shells hiding the soft fragile creatures inside. You would never guess something so armored and tough on the outside could be hiding a secret like that. He had liked watching them, puzzling over the contradiction.

_You slipped him loose from his shell and then..._

“I didn’t,” Eren whispered, filled with dull horror. Eighteen months. Eighteen months Levi had been carrying this, thinking Eren had tricked him just to get an easier getaway, and _worse_ : Levi had all but told him he thought Eren had _known_ how Levi had felt, deceived him anyway, _You weren’t exactly unwilling!_ his own words stinging now. As if Levi still could have enjoyed it after the betrayal. “I didn’t. I did love you. I--”

But Levi’s expression had closed off, the pain put away somewhere, locked back up again. He regarded Eren coolly. 

Desperately now Eren said, “Why would I lie...”

“Because you’re a fucking manipulative piece of shit like your brother,” Levi said, and Eren closed his mouth with a snap.

“Ugh--” Levi said suddenly, giving a surprised grunt of pain. He grabbed at his abdomen. 

“Levi--” he reached for his hand, but Levi slapped it away. He couldn’t help but marvel, again, at Levi’s self control. This had to be killing him--it _was_ killing him, and Eren was sitting right here _willing_ and he still wouldn’t let go.

_Self control. Maybe. Maybe you just fucked him up so bad he can’t stand the sight of you now._

“Please,” Eren said. “We can do anything. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want--”

“I don’t want any of it.”

“Levi, _please_ , I don’t know how much time is left before--”

“Cut your fucking hair,” Levi snarled at him, still clutching his belly.

Eren blinked, one hand going up involuntarily to touch the hair tied up on his head. “What?”

But Levi turned his back on him, and was shivering again through another painful cramp. 

Eren stared at him. The hard line of his back where he had curled in on himself. Then he went back to his room. There was a small glass on the wall, and he got a pair of scissors from his kit. He let the tie fall to the ground and he held chunks of his hair between his fingers, letting the scissors do their work. He went quickly and the result was haphazard, uneven, but cropped closer to his head then it had been in years. He looked at himself wide-eyed in the mirror.

Did he still look like himself? He ran a hand through the short hair--it felt strange. _I hope it’s enough,_ he thought.

Levi hadn’t moved. Eren pushed the table and chair away from the bed, and then he settled on top of Levi. Levi turned his head enough to look at him. His eyes were sad and pained.

“Will you let me?” Eren whispered. Needing a yes.

Levi closed his eyes. “Do what you need to do,” he replied in a ragged voice, “and get out.”

Well. No need to pretend that didn’t hurt, but he grabbed for Levi’s belt and undid it, sliding the leather out of the buckle, unfastening his pants and pushing them open. Levi didn’t help, but he didn’t stop him. His eyes were closed.

He was hard though, and Eren swallowed as he looked at Levi’s cock. No. He hadn’t forgotten this. He felt an answering jolt in his own groin, and he shifted on the bed, lowering his head. He put a hand on Levi, touching the coarse black curls at the base, his fingers exploring--Levi sighed above him--Eren cupped his balls, rubbing gently and then pressing _up_ with the heel of his hand, and Levi made a strangled noise.

His cock was hard and red and angry looking. Eren kept moving his hand, rubbing Levi’s balls and then coming up to grip the hardness and _squeeze_. He finally lowered his head the rest of the way, wet mouth enveloping Levi in one move. He heard Levi moan above him, long and low. He thrust his hips up, trying to get deeper into Eren’s mouth, and Eren sucked hard, his tongue laving around the middle of Levi’s shaft, then coming up to suck at the flared crown.

“Yes,” Levi said, sounding dazed, “Yes--” his hips thrust hard again as Eren sucked him. 

Levi was arching up half off the bed, and his hands were buried in Eren’s short, newly-cropped hair. He ran his fingers through his hair, over his scalp, crying out helplessly as Eren sucked him off and worked him with his hands. 

Eren pressed his forehead into Levi’s stomach. _Oh fuck_ this was _torture_. His own cock throbbed painfully in his pants. He knew how good it was, what he was doing, even without Levi practically ripping out his hair and losing his damn mind as he gasped, _“Yes, yes, yes, yes,”_ soft sweet noises over and over.

He knew because Levi had once done this to _him_ and he could still remember.

It didn’t take much longer. Levi was coming, hot and bitter semen splashing his tongue. He was startled enough that he pulled his head back, but that was wrong, because now he could _see_ Levi’s cock, pulsing and then dribbling more after the first flow was expended. He could see Levi’s face too, open and transported. 

His cock pounded so hard he had to grab it, gritting his teeth and trying to get ahold of himself. There wasn’t going to be any easy forgetting after this. He climbed up alongside Levi.

He mumbled, “Is it okay if I--”

Levi let him put his face against his neck, and kiss him there. He smelled amazing, like lemon peel and soap and warm soft skin and _Levi_ , and he thrust his poor abused cock between Levi’s slick naked thighs as he left endless kisses along Levi’s neck. He had no intention of kissing Levi on the mouth; he didn’t need the harsh intrusion of reality when Levi smacked him.

But one or the other of them must have forgotten; he had been kissing Levi full-on the mouth for ten minutes before he realized, and by that point he didn’t see the sense in stopping. He was still thrusting in between Levi’s thighs, and Levi was arching up to meet him every time, his own cock--almost instantly hard again after coming--rubbing against Eren’s belly.

That was two days. Two days of wanting Levi, and having him, the fire in them both barely extinguished by each new act and climax. When Levi slept he’d get up to find food and bring it back, hardly tasting it before one or the other of them was on again. 

On the morning of the second day he was lying, sated, still tangled up with Levi when he spoke.

“It’s over now. You can go.”

Eren sat up slowly. They hadn’t talked at all. Well, why would they? They’d been busy. But Levi’s tone--whatever Eren might have been feeling--made it clear that for him nothing had changed.

Just in case he dressed slowly. Allowing Levi time to call him back.

He didn’t.

 

 

 

 

There was an airship bound for Mitras that could drop them on its way, and he and Levi had ridden out to the launch field together in total silence.

Standing outside the inn, waiting for the boy to bring their horses round Eren had felt compelled to say something. He had almost instantly regretted it.

“Do you regret it?” he’d asked, the words coming out harsher than he’d intended. Levi knew what he meant; not the last two days.

 _Before._

That one perfect memory, one time yet unmarred by Eren’s betrayal. The last time, Eren supposed, that there had been the possibility of any future between them. Levi didn’t answer immediately. Eren was still trying to decide what to follow up with, when he’d said,

“I regret what you did after.”

 

 

 

 

A few people on the airfield had tried to talk to him, but he’d all but bared his teeth chasing them away. He was angry. He felt cheated somehow (and guilty for feeling that way) as if sex should have fixed something.

It hadn’t. Levi had been remarkably cool since telling him to get out; you would never know they had spent two days naked in a bed together.

He knew it was his fault, his fault for starting all this when he shouldn’t have. If he hadn’t spectacularly bungled things, thinking with his stupid cock instead of with his _head_ \-- at least Levi wouldn’t have had to carry this. He wouldn’t have had to wake up thinking he was loved, in love (Levi, who had an unimpeachable reputation for celibacy, in the military’s least celibate division; Levi, who had been less experienced even than Eren had expected), only to find it had all turned to sand, washed away in the night.

_He still didn’t say he regretted it. He said he regretted what you did after. Because he still--_

_Oh, Eren, give it a rest for fuck’s sake._ He dug his fingernails into his palms, narrowing his eyes and letting the small pain distract him from the big one. 

 

 

 

 

Levi slept on the flight home; he curled up in one of the seats with his old cloak draped around him and Eren watched, feeling hollow and washed out, the shell left maybe after it has been abandoned (or else its occupant forcibly evicted), tumbling and tumbling as the waves pick it up and toss it against the shore.

He didn’t see any way he could convince Levi of his own version of events. There were too many holes, too many gaps, too many stupid decisions he’d made because he was young and horny and in love, because he hadn’t wanted to die but more than that because he hadn’t wanted the people he loved to die.

He wasn’t going to be around forever. His time would soon be up. In the little he had left he’d wanted to protect them, as well as he could. 

In the little he’d had left he’d wanted to see if Levi could love him, never really expecting that he would. The way he had kissed him that first time, the way he had peeled each piece of armor away. 

Levi had fucked him first; he’d wanted it that way, and so Levi had done it. He had thought it would be good--better than good. He’d been dreaming about it for _years_.

Instead it had been some kind of spiritual awakening. Physically it had been great, sure; Levi was slow and careful and it took no time at all to find a rhythm they both liked. They were so in synch he could almost feel Levi’s pleasure, as keenly as his own. But no; what was terrifying was that it had been more. That way Levi had looked at him, so soft and open like he’d come home. Halfway through he had realized Levi couldn’t have done this very often; it wasn’t that he was bad at it (oh no, no, no, not at _all_ ), it was the way he kept looking at him, as if this were a revelation, this sweet almost funny expression of joy as they moved together.

As if he hadn’t known anything could be so good.

That was what had scared him off coming back the next night. Levi had been so open and honest with him--he knew if he did it again it wouldn’t stay hidden. It would come out. It would fuck up everything.

This time had been different. The secrets were gone but the wreckage they’d left lay between them. Levi had been so totally open before; _this_ time he’d held back. Keeping hold of himself, not giving anything close to that one-time intimacy. 

They hadn’t fucked. He’d made it clear to Levi he was willing--more than willing to give Levi what he needed--but Levi had flat out refused. That didn’t make sense either; the Yellow Tree Powder should have made scruples like that irrelevant. 

He’d hated himself for being disappointed. For _wanting_ what Levi so clearly didn’t.

What could he say to Levi now that wouldn’t sound callous and needlessly cruel? _I did love you then--I still left. I didn’t say anything when I came back, even though I knew you had loved me. I didn’t think about how you felt at all._

 _Nothing,_ he told himself. _There’s nothing you can do now._

Of course, he didn’t believe it.

 

 

 

 

Months passed. Eren felt as if he was sitting in the middle of a busy anthill.

Every day people arrived: visitors, delegates, merchants, dignitaries, soldiers. They had stoked the nation as if it were some great engine and it had burst to life. Almost every day new factories were opening; building guns, smelting iron, sewing the great balloons for the airships. 

They were preparing for war: war with Marley, war, maybe with the world. 

Everyone had a job. Only Eren sat idle, without work or responsibility. He wondered if that was the punishment Hanji had devised. It wasn’t as if he could insist--let me lead the soldiers. Let me work. They still suspected him of some further betrayal and he had supporters, especially among the new recruits. Hanji didn’t want him to turn anyone else against them.

That hurt, but it was another thing he couldn’t fairly argue, another sin. All he could do was wait, and wonder if they would let him live out his time or decide he was too much of a liability and kill him early.

He had overheard them talking.

Sometimes he looked over at Armin and thought, _You? You too?_

Armin had been his best friend since they were kids. Hearing that, hearing him say the words had shocked him. He had thought it was one of those things he could count on forever: Armin’s love. Armin’s loyalty. 

_I saved you,_ he thought. _I made him pick you._

But as much as it pained him emotionally, he understood. It made sense. They couldn’t trust him after Zeke; hell, he probably wouldn’t even trust him if he were in their position. It hurt to admit that too. He had known Zeke for so short a time, but that time had brought more ruin than anything.

But it wasn’t him. It was me.

He still didn’t know if he’d change anything. Ultimately, he supposed that was why they couldn’t forgive him; not because he’d done it, but because he didn’t regret it.

 

 

 

 

Historia threw a huge banquet for them at the palace. The soldiers overran the grand ballroom and spilled out into the courtyard, where paper lanterns had been hung, casting everything in a golden glow. There was dancing and music and food, and off of the main rooms some of the soldiers (mostly the officers) had retreated to card games or were milling around just talking. 

Eren didn’t care about any of it. He had been scouring the rooms for what felt like hours, searching for Levi.

That morning Hanji had called him into her office.

He had thought he was prepared, but he felt a cold jolt of fear tear through him. He was a little surprised she was telling him at all. He had figured they would just spring it on him when they were ready, not taking a chance on his escaping.

He sat in a hard wooden chair across from her desk and listened to her talk, his face pale and drawn. She had a small box in front of her. He hadn’t paid any attention at first, but by the end his eyes were locked on it.

There was a pause when she finished speaking.

“Hanji,” he said, dizzy. He felt like he’d just run through half a dozen transformations. He felt like he was dreaming. “Hanji, what are you _saying?”_

The expression on her face softened a little. “We think it will extend your life,” she said, gently repeating the most important part. “Indefinitely.”

“I didn’t know you were working on this,” he said, touching his head. But it made sense; they wouldn’t want to lose Armin. Only, why tell him? Armin’s life would extend past his anyway. It wasn’t like he’d have ever known if they had kept it from him and used it only on Armin.

“We wouldn’t have said anything until we were sure.”

“Okay,” he said, but he didn’t move. He had thought she was bringing him here to tell him he was going to be killed. Not to tell him they were saving his life.

 _I don’t deserve this,_ he thought. _I don’t. I don’t._ He thought of Sasha laughing with the hermit crab running across her hand.

 

 

 

 

He pushed through the throngs, making another pass over the ballroom. He was starting to despair, thinking Levi wasn’t here. Although where else could he be? The entire Corp was here tonight. 

Another one of his young admirers was approaching him, edging close through the crowd, and he grimaced and moved away. Pretending he hadn’t seen. At the edge of the room long velvet curtains blocked the windows, and he ducked behind, disappearing into darkness. That was when he remembered the balconies, and he groped along in the darkness until he found a latch and opened it, spilling out into the cool night air. 

He took deep gulps of the cold air, holding the stone balustrade in his hands. Something made him turn. Levi was there, half hidden in the darkness. He looked unsurprised to see him.

Eren stared at him for a moment. _It’s always the last place you look,_ he thought wildly.

“I--” Eren said. Levi had barely spoken to him in the months since Stohess; he had acted just as if nothing had happened.

He took a step forward, but Levi didn’t speak or move. He took another. And then he knelt in front of Levi, and rested the side of his head against Levi’s stomach and Levi _was_ surprised, but he didn’t move--he couldn’t. His back was to the curve of the balcony.

“I--I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry for everything. I never would have done it, if I’d known what it would do to you--”

“You’re still talking about sleeping with me,” Levi said, sounding pissed. He pushed him away. “The first time. Like _that_ was what you did wrong--”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you--”

“Talk to Sasha about your good intentions. Talk to Connie.”

“I thought I was going to die,” Eren said softly. “I didn’t want to leave you all alone with no protection. I wanted to do what I could to leave you with something before I left. I’m sorry. But maybe there’s time now, to be someone different. Someone better.”

He got back to his feet and moved forward and kissed Levi, expecting to be pushed away, hit, thrown off the balcony.

Levi tilted his head up and licked inside his mouth, as if he couldn’t say no. Eren moaned and grabbed at him, pushing him back until he was wedged into the corner where the curved balustrade met the wall.

He didn’t know exactly how it happened--maybe he just didn’t believe that Levi was letting him. He had his hands on Levi’s ass, holding him up, and Levi’s legs were around his waist. He was holding Levi up, backed against the corner, the wall on one side of them and fresh air on the other.

Anyone could have seen them. Maybe they were lost in the shadows. Eren kept kissing him, but Levi was kissing back. His arms were around Eren’s waist, sliding up to his shoulders.

No, maybe sex didn’t fix anything but they hadn’t stopped wanting each other. He could feel Levi’s hard cock against his belly, through layers of clothes, and without thinking about it he fumbled Levi’s belt open and pushed at the fabric of his pants. 

Levi shivered through it but didn’t stop him; Eren felt a wave of lust so strong come over him he could hardly stand. Shakily he undid his own belt--they were both still clothed, still in their underwear, but--

He shifted, holding Levi so they were groin to groin, pressing his cock to Levi’s through the thin cotton layers. He thrust against Levi and Levi gasped between kisses, mouth open and wet--Eren kissed his lips and ran his tongue against Levi’s teeth, his tongue. He did it again. He hadn’t intended to do this; he hadn’t really intended any of it. He had been waiting for one of them--probably Levi--to regain enough sanity to break this off, to end it, but none of that was happening.

Instead he was thrusting against Levi, pinning him in place. Levi’s strong warm thighs wrapped around him. Nothing separated them but two layers of flimsy underwear; Eren longed to move them as much as he wanted to keep them in place. It would feel so good to be skin to skin; but if it broke this mad spell it wasn’t worth it. Nothing was. The world had finally narrowed to something manageable; mouth, lips, warm skin. He nuzzled against Levi’s jet black hair and Levi turned his head, mouth kissing Eren’s neck.

He could stay here forever, hold Levi up like this forever. Even though it would have to stop--somebody would get their brain back. They couldn’t keep going too long; it was deliciously good but not _enough_. They’d have to decide; strip a little more, take a little more risk; stop and go back…

Levi’s hands were hard on his shoulders--they tightened suddenly and Eren pressed him back, thrusting hard. Levi moaned and Eren felt it with a shock, a wet spot he could feel even through his own underclothes. His cock throbbed eagerly--and he thought, dizzily, _You were saying, Eren?_

He had been certain, a second ago, that they couldn’t get off like this but Levi just _had._ He was so hot with it it burned through him. He squeezed Levi’s ass in his hands, thinking over and over, _I did it, I did that to him, it was me--_ and then his cock gave a series of short sharp pulses as he came messily against the wet fabric of his underwear.

 

 

 

 

Eren had knocked at Levi’s door, and he was surprised and a little discomfited when Hanji answered it.

“Eren,” she said, too-brightly, eyes glittering. “Coming to let Levi lock you up for the night?” she stepped aside, letting him into the room. She had given him a look that made it clear she knew exactly why he was here.

He felt uncomfortably like he’d come to pick a girl up for a date, only to be met with the profound disapproval of her father.

Levi and Hanji finished talking, and Hanji gathered up her papers and left, nodding to Eren on her way out.

He flushed a little, when she was gone. He looked at Levi. They haven’t been alone together since the night of the party; Levi had been sent off on a mission the next morning.

“Hanji said,” he said quietly, “there’s a serum. That can--”

“I know,” Levi said; of course he did. Because she wouldn’t have talked to Eren without talking to Levi first he realized. He felt stupid for not knowing--not really knowing. He wondered if Levi had vouched for him again--it was a thought that was more upsetting than happy. Not because Levi might have saved his life, but because he might have bet on Eren again without having a reason too.

He took Levi’s hand, and Levi let him.

“I meant it,” he said softly. “Maybe I can be someone different.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is loved!


End file.
